


Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

by Chaosride



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games, Like, M/M, This is really sad, and feli is prim, and romano is katniss, and this isnt all that much like the actual series, and you really feel for the tributes, but - Freeform, i just listed basically who's in the hunger games, theres a lot of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:00:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaosride/pseuds/Chaosride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HungerGames!AU. Romano was rude and crude and everyone loved his brother more, but he was willing to do anything necessary for his family, even take Feli's place in the dreaded Hunger Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My recommended listening is the following songs:  
> Tomorrow Will Be Kinder by The Secret Sisters  
> Just A Game by Birdy  
> Come Away To The Water by Maroon 5

The sun was just peaking over the horizon in District 12, light bleeding through the trees and the world just waking up. Lovino got ready in silence, occasionally glancing at the still sleeping figure of his younger brother. The wind whistled through their sad excuse of a house, a run down shack at the edge of the district, and Feliciano shifted, face scrunched some in his sleep. Lovino knew he needed to go, before his brother got up and asked to go with him.

When Romano Lovino Vargas was 7, his grandfather, who had raised him and his twin brother for as long as he could remember, took him into the forest and handed him a bow. From the age of 7, he had broken the law to help feed his family. He remember, vaguely, being so jealous of his brother, who was everyone's friend and his grandfather's favorite, and sometimes the feeling lingered, but since their grandfather passed away in a mine accident, he didn't care anymore. Feliciano had memories of Grandpa Roma teaching him to paint and sing, of happier days not worrying about food, and Romano had memories of truth, of teachings of survival and clear, bright mornings shooting until he had food for both dinner and money. He knew how to sell his kill and to who, and even if somehow the memories were bitter, he knew his grandfather was right; his brother was too sweet and naive to be forced to kill and survive, and Romano was the only option.

And it was for the best. He was willing to crawl through the hole in the fence that used to be electrified, was willing to break the law and risk so much for Feliciano. Because people loved his younger twin, but merely tolerated Lovino. He was surly and snarky and no one knew how to talk to him. People flocked to Feli, everyone was his friend and he didn't deserve to see what a rotten world they were living in.

So he hunted and sold his meat and brought home food and even tolerated that stupid potato bastard who his brother was talking of marrying in the summer.

\--

Romano slid through the hole in the fence that marked District 12 off from the trees and used to be electrified, which his grandfather had shown him years ago, and set about getting his kill for the day, quiet and at home in the woods.

It was their last year in the reaping. Lovino's name must have been in the drawing at least a hundred times, put in after he put in extra food, but his brother's is only in as many times as it has to be. Not that Feli could ever know that; to him Romano is just his hot head brother who disappears until late afternoon and who cusses too much.

They gather in the square for the reaping and Feliciano is scared like he is every year, pressed close to Ludwig in the crowd of children and teenagers. There were people from the Capitol gathered around up front, and two large looking clear bowls set center stage, filled with paper slips of names to be selected for the 74th annual Hunger Games.

"Welcome, welcome!" A man in colorful clothes all but shouted into the mic. In other districts, where careers were raised, this was probably met with cheering, but in district 12 the crowd merely fell silent, watching him. "Isn't this just exciting?" He asked finally, grinning. Romano hated this part, the idiots from the Capitol not seeming to completely grasp that they were killing people, selecting someone's brother, someone's sister, or best friend. The man kept blathering on, talking about "74 years of tradition" and all the Capitol did for the districts, but no one was really listening, all waiting for the drawing and the news that they were safe. Feliciano's hand, sweaty and sticky, wrapped into his own, Ludwig on his other side, watching the man talk and waiting for the drawing to begin.

The moment finally came. "We'll draw the lady first, of course." He said, smiling. His hand dug around in the large bowl and came out with a single slip of paper. "Sophia del Merta!" Romano glanced around for the girl, knowing her name but not her face. She was a year younger than them and a little weak looking. She was escorted up onto the stage, looking terrified but resolved. She had a large family, three older brothers and two younger sisters, but they remained silent, watching in resigned horror.

"And now, for our gentleman!" He said, drawing a name and opening it. He looked a little lost at how to pronounce it at first, but soon enough he smiled charmingly and called out, "Feliciano Vargas!"

No one moved, no one breathed, all was silent as his brother, Romano's soft brother who rescued injured birds and painted and sang and was hopelessly in love, looked around in confused distress before he started to cry loudly, and peacekeepers grabbed at him.

Lovino watched in horror, frozen until he saw Ludwig move, intentions clear in his eyes. He knew he couldn't let him volunteer: he needed to do it. So pushed his way to the aisle, screaming, "I volunteer! I volunteer!"

Everyone was staring at him, confused as to why harsh, rude Lovino would volunteer for anyone, even his own brother.

"Lovi! Lovi, no!" His brother cried, being handed off from the peacekeepers to Ludwig despite his struggles and the tears streaming down his face.

Romano was guided up the steps and stood next to Sophia, staring out at the grave faces of the people of his district.

"Oh, wow! The first ever volunteer for this district! How amazing. What's your name?"

He hated this people, he couldn't stand them, but if he was rude like normal, they could haul his brother back up there in his place and he wasn't taking the risk. "Romano Vargas." He ground out.

"With that last name, you must be his brother, yes? How touching! Let's have a hand for our tributes for this year!" No one clapped. Romano could still hear Feliciano crying but refused to look at him. There was a moment before the crowd started raising their hands, holding up three fingers in the District 12 sign of respect.

Romano had learned a long time ago not regret the decisions he made, and he wasn't going to start then.


	2. Chapter 1: The Capitol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romano's volunteered and made amends with whats to come, and is determined to win, more than anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, to clear up any confusion, gay marriage is allowed in all the districts and the Capitol, the only draw back is that any lesbians must surrogate as much as 5 times to sustain the population and and gay men would have to donate sperm whenever called upon for the same reason.

Their train wasn't to depart for another hour, so the tributes were allowed to visit with their families for a few moments, holed up in what passed as the courthouse, near the train station. Feliciano came in alone, which was odd considering how he was normally clinging to his stupid potato bastard, but he didn't complain, merely hugging back when his brother wrapped around him like an octopus. He didn't want his brother's last memories of him to be bitter or angry.

"Why?! Why would you volunteer?" Feli demanded over and over again.

Romano almost told him the truth. Almost snapped that he could hunt, that no one beside Feli would even notice he was gone, that that stupid bastard was marrying him despite his stupidness and he would be damned if he got stuck with a heartbroken Ludwig. He almost told him, in his own way, that Feliciano deserved to live more than he did. But he doesn't. He doesn't dare to, because that could very well have been the last time he got to talk to his brother face to face, and he wasn't going to ruin it like he did everything else.

"Because I love you." He settled on finally before the door was thrown open and one of the peacekeepers told them that his brother was up and there were other visitors waiting.

Which, yeah, threw Romano some because who in all of Panem would want to see him besides his brother?

Feliciano left, though not without a fight, and Ludwig stepped in, with his grandfather, the mayor.

Romano had always thought them odd. They were both fair and light from their pale skin, to their platinum blonde hair, to their bright blue eyes, and stood out from the dark characteristics of their district.

"Take care of him." Is all he can think to say, because he knew that the only reason they were there was because of his brother, really.

Ludwig nodded before holding out his fist, dropping a golden necklace into his palm. There was a bird, holding an arrow as the pendant, hanging from a sturdy chain, long enough to tucked into his shirt, but short enough to not be a hindrance. "It's a mockingjay. I was going to give it to Feli but... You take it, for luck."

Romano does, because it meant having a token to remind him what he was fighting for, and fixed the two with a fierce stare, "make sure he eats and don't... Tell him what I did for money. Just... Take care of him."

\--

Sophia didn't speak to him the entire train ride, merely sitting at the table in the dining cart and stuffing her face, which really seemed ridiculous to Lovino. She was the bakers daughter and got more food than most in their district. He hoped she made herself sick their first night in the Capitol.

Sadik, their trainer who was the only survivor of the games Lovino had heard of from their district, came stumbling in, already off his face drunk. He seemed to live his life drunk, of course, but Romano honestly didn't care about any of his issues; he just cared about getting trained to win. Winning was all that mattered here, not dignity or honor. He had Feli to return to, a life to pretend to live. He didn't expect to actually win, not against Careers or any of the others, but he would try his hardest.

"So, when are you going to start training us?" He demanded roughly, staring up at the tan man. He had a half mask, covered his mauled left eye, a scar left by his own Hunger Game triumph nearly a decade before.

"We haven't left the district yet, kid. It's not like you stand an actual chance anyway." Sadik snapped, collapsing onto the plush couch on the other side of the cart.

"Damn right, I won't win if you don't train me as soon as fucking possible." Romano said, crossing his arms.

Sadik laughed harshly. "Fiery. Maybe they're right; District 12 might have a winner finally."

Sophia glared at him darkly before continuing to eat.

\--

They were apparently already celebrities in the Capitol because as soon as they were off the train, people were screaming their names, trying to get their attention and asking them questions as Julius hurried them along, rambling about makeovers and the parade. Sadik seemed to have slept off the majority of the alcohol in his system, instead looking angry and following them at a more leisurely pace.

They were hurried into separate rooms to meet their stylists and get made pretty.

He got shaved and washed vigorously before they cut his hair, though they couldn't get his stubborn curl to lay down either and left it sticking out despite their best efforts, before jamming him into a tight black jump suit, his necklace left to gleam against the fabric. He was actually a little nervous about their costumes for the parade, as District 12 always got the short end of the stick, usually in miner suits or scantily anything, smeared with coal dust and holding pick axes or something similarly generic. He had never seen a interesting design idea for their district. Nobody really minded them anyway, left to oh and aw over District 1's shiny, expensive costumes and their pretty people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, there are a startlingly low number of females in Hetalia, so I used all of them as actual tributes. some other females in the story will be historical figures. Like Julius is Julius Caesar. And since he's in the future and was known for being fairly flamboyant, I based his future personality off Magnus Bane.


	3. Chapter 2: The Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The parade, and a first meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone for the Kudos so far, and apologize that his is getting updated so slowly. So today you get 2 chapters instead of one!

Lovino took it back. He would rather ride to the parade naked and smeared with coal dust than set on fire, and oh hell no. They introduced into a stylist, who informed him that the best way to go for the district was with fire. He and Julius got along just fine talking excitedly about costumes and parades together and Romano was scared. He never liked dressing up, even when it was time for the reaping, he would simply force his brother into the nice clothes and go out his usual hunting garb. This was all new and reminded him that in less than a week he was slotted to die one way or another.

Sophia, on the other hand, looked much too happy about all of this. He remembered from his time at school that she mentioned wanting to be a tailor, and often talked about nice pretty skirts and long, extravagant dresses. Lovino wondered if she realized she would die to get all the glamour she had dreamed of. Everyone seemed to ignore that, and all focused on the good food they were being fed and how nice their clothes were, but Romano knew. Soon, they would all be up on every TV screen in Panem, fighting against each other for the lives, for the Capitol’s entertainment.

He hated it. He hated that he had taken his brother’s place in the games. But, in the same way he was glad he did. He was a fighter, he lived his life knowing he came second and never really minding, as his moments came in the forest or in the middle of the night because that was when his grandfather looked at him and knew no matter what Romano was capable of taking care of them. Feliciano got art and cooking and babied, but Romano got survival. When he was younger, and first being pulled out into the woods in the dead of the night to be taught how to shoot a bow and skin a squirrel, he hated it too. In fact, he couldn’t think of many things in his life that he hadn’t hated at first. While his grandfather loved Feliciano he still loved Romano enough to want him to know how to care themselves, but Romano never seen that, not until he died.

And now, he was here preparing to be lit on fire, and shown off at like a prized pig, all because he was a good brother on the inside even if not with his words. He wished, vaguely, that he’d told his brother that he loved him more often, or that he had told him ever, but all that mattered was that Feliciano was safe and planning on being married to the only other person in the district who Romano actually trusted. They rigged up their suits and douse them in a liquid and get ready, watching as others climb on the chariots and dress   
up.

They were the last to load their chariot, and all the other tributes looked fairly dazzling. The tributes from District one were both blonde and pretty and wearing bright colors and jewels to signify that their district put out luxury goods. The tribute from District 2 was handsome and staring right at Lovino, and he and his fellow tribute were wearing shiny iridescent clothes to symbolize the diamonds their district puts out, though Romano thought that they should, at least one year, put them in the peacemaker uniform as that was where the Academy was. The tributes in District 3 looked more feral, boy tribute having stark white hair and bright red eyes, and the girl holding herself defensively. They are costumes have lights flashing from little pinpricks all over the fabric to represent the electronics their district puts out. The district 4 tributes were not very eye-catching, simply dressed up in ridiculous Fisher men costumes. The boy tribute and district 5 scared Lovino, with a fierce glare and a stiff, rigid posture. The girl, however, did not look as threatening, instead looking scared herself. Before Romano could finish sizing up his competition, he and Sophia were ushered into their places and promptly lit on fire. It happened before Romano could think about it, a quick click of a lighter and then bright flickering flames, and they drew the attention of everyone nearby.

The other tributes don’t have longed to gawk though, as they start to roll through the doors in the parade began.

He listened as the president rambled about propriety and tradition, as well as a victor to congratulate at the end of everything. The people all cheered and Romano couldn’t help but wonder if they realized that 23 people would soon be dead for their entertainment, that 23 people had families and homes and lives and that their families will have to watch them go out of their minds and kill and maim and massacre for a war that happened 7 decades before.

Everything happened in a blur, and it seemed as though they teleported from the Parade hall to the cushy hotel that all of the tributes were staying in. He just wanted to collapse in bed and never wake up again.

They ate another rather large meal after the parade, and Romano was starting to feel hollow; like someone had scooped out all of his insides, leaving him raw and wide-open as reality really started to kick in. He would never see Feli again, would never spend another day just exploring the woods, would never watch his brother get married.

‘Dammit, don’t fucking cry.’ He told himself resolutely.

“So,” Sadiq started, wiping his mouth, “what are you too good at?”

They both stared at him for a moment before Sophia shrugged.

“Not much.” She admitted.

“Me either.”

Sophia snorted. “You’re good at archery.” She looked at Sadiq, “if he gets his hands on a bow, he’ll win.”

“Like, what the fuck? What makes you so damn sure?” He demanded.

She rounded on him. “I’ve seen the animals you bring in! Right through the eye, every time! Even the small things.” She shrugged, “my dad told me, during visitation, that we may finally have opened after. He wasn’t talking about me.” Sophia shoved herself away from the table, shaking the cutlery and nearly upending a pitcher of tea.

Everyone was staring at him, sizing him up at the new information and he fucking hated it.

He got up and went to find his room.

\--

Apparently, as soon as the parades were over, things stopped being so ceremonial, as they were dumped into training nearly as soon as they were through. Sophia avoided him at all cost, and Romano found he liked it that way. It gave him more time to analyze his competition.

The Careers, usually districts 1 through 5, were smaller this year, instead falling to districts 1 through 3. The 6 didn’t look like much except when they were fighting, but Lovino knew better than to underestimate them.

Sadiq had instructed him not to take archery and said to worry about things he knew nothing about, which was a lot easier than he thought it would be.

Mainly because he had to take some stations a few times due to being distracted. Of course, this could help if the others wrote him off, so we went with it, wondering if it was how Feli felt all the time.

Thinking of his brother hurt though, so instead he continued camouflaging with the girl from District 7, who was scarily good at it.

Romano had felt eyes on him all morning, but he couldn’t figure out who was watching him until after lunch, well into the afternoon. The tribute from District 2, Antonio he vaguely remembered, was staring at him with an intensity that was scary.

The man was stunning, of course, with tan skin and emerald eyes, and he was watching Romano from across the training area. But he wasn’t watching him like he was pray, rather like he was enamoring. Romano remembered the same look on Ludwig’s stupid face when he caught the potato bastard looking at his brother. The thought made Romano’s guts twist together like snakes. It was more than likely all an act, but flattering nonetheless.

He promised he would try to win, and return home, even just to placate his stupidly childish brother, but he would still try his absolute hardest to win.

The Hunger Games were cruel and only had one winner, but Romano hoped it would be him.

\--

Lovino couldn’t sleep. The bed was soft and heaven to lay in, the familiar noises of the forest comforting as they came through the interactive screen that doubled as a window, and body tired from the training all day, but his mind wouldn’t shut up. 

Finally, he gave up trying and got up, planning on going for a walk. He had discovered the 1st night there that the door to the roof was unguarded and had no alarm. He liked it out the open, like seeing the sky and the lights. When he was still in District 12, when he couldn’t sleep, he would walk through the forest and look up at the stars through the trees.

He didn’t even consider other people being up there, hadn’t known how to react to the shadow at the edge of the building.

He could have just turned around and gone back to bed, probably should have, but Romano was generally made of carelessness and stubbornness, so he walked to the spot he had claimed as his own in his mind. 

“The stars aren’t as bright out here.” The other tribute said after some silence, and he turned his face toward Lovino, the low light catching the features.

It was the same man who would been watching him during practice, and for a moment he considered storming off the rooftop, but was almost out of fight already, and didn’t even have the energy to act cold and indifferent anymore. 

“It’s all the smog. You can see way more in District 12.” He didn’t mention that it was best to look at them from the forest, which he had illegally hunted in since he was 10.

“I’m Antonio.” The man said, holding her hand out to him. He was way too fucking chipper for the hour Lovino decided.

He shook his hand, regardless.


	4. Chapter 3: The Interviews

The rest of training ran smoothly for the most part, and Romano found he didn’t mind Antonio watching him like he did the first day. They didn’t speak to each other while they were around the other tributes, but still tended to meet at night on the roof. It wasn’t decided on, verbally at least, but it happened every night.

Most of the time, they didn’t talk when they met at night, simply sitting together for fear of the roof being bugged. It was nice, having someone to share companionship with. He had never really had it before, not even with his brother. Feliciano had a habit of rambling and not liking long silences, so Romano learn to deal with it, even if he loved the silence.

Interviews passed in a blur of clapping, and charming smiles. All the other tributes seem to know how to work the crowd, except for the male from district 7. Romano had no idea how he was supposed to charm anyone, had never had the need to. Antonio had the eating out of the palm of his hand, smiling and joking with their host. 

“So, anyone waiting for you back in your district?” It was a question they asked everyone, especially since they had more volunteers than ever before. Four, including Lovino, and not a single one from the careers.

On stage, Antonio laughed, “no, no,” he shook his head, but still smiled like he had a secret. 

“But?” The interviewer goaded, leaning in conspiratorially.

“But, I did meet someone here.” 

“A capital citizen?”

“No. Another tribute.”

The whole crowd seemed crumpled with sympathy.

“How tragic!”

Lovino froze, eyes watching the two. Was that bastard talking about him? He hoped in equal parts that Antonio was talking about him and that he wasn’t.

The crowd roared, a mix between joy and sympathy, all glad to have some drama this year.

“What's she like?” Oh, the crowd was loving this, no doubt.

“He’s amazing.”

That bastard was talking about him! Sophia looked at him with knowing eyes, and he wanted to punch her for thinking she knew anything about him. His face burned from a confusing mix of joy, anger, and embarrassment.

On the stage, the commentator laughed mirthfully. “Well, spend all the time you can with them.”

Antonio nodded right as the buzzer went off, signaling the time was up. Antonio stood up and waved for last time before walking off stage. 

Lovino wanted to slam him against the wall demand what on earth he thought he was doing, saying things like that, but he knew he couldn’t. Not there, anywhere. The other tributes didn’t need any help getting to him, and he planned on surviving. He would do it later, if Antonio had the gall to show his stupid face on the roof that night. 

And he had better. Tonight was their last night before the games began, and even if he was mad at him for using him, he wanted to have one more quiet moment before they had to trying kill each other. 

He didn’t want to kill Antonio, knew he probably wouldn’t be able to if push came to shove, but he remembered the couples from the past games; they never made to the end, instead being the gamemakers favorite playthings. They usually died painfully, slowly, together.

Lovino refuse to be one of them. He didn’t want to fall to the Capitol’s feet like all the other tributes. He didn’t want to become a monster for them.  
His emotions is handshake, but he knew he had to get a grip on it, he couldn’t show weakness now.

The rest of the tributes went, one by one, and he tried to listen, he really did, but he only heard a few of the others, like the tribute from district four, who told the crowd the fiancée waiting for them, or the brother and sister pair from district 9, who of both volunteered together. He couldn’t even focus on Sophia went up, nerves began, turning to butterflies in the stomach and throat. Soon, he was being led up the steps, and talking to the host, forgetting all about even being cordial.

\--

Antonio was on the roof that night, later than normal. With evaluation, interviews, and results all within a few hours of each other, as well as the sick dread to growing a stomach over the game started the next morning, Romano almost didn’t have the energy to demand answers.

Almost. 

“Who do you think you are, fucking ass?!” He asked, trying to be quiet but barely succeeding. “Saying things like that on stage?!” 

“I was just being honest.” He said simply, still smiling. Romano sputtered indignation, but couldn’t think of an argument.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the night, but maybe it was better that way.


	5. Chapter 4: The Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunger games are finally starting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I would post the other tributes, and their districts.  
> Francis & Joan de Arc -District 1 (luxury goods)  
> Antonio & Bella- District 2 (rock quarries)  
> Gilbert & Elizaveta- Distrct 3 (machinery)  
> Arthur & Aoife (Ireland)- District 4 (sea food)  
> Tino & Monaco- District 5 (scientific research)  
> Vash & Lily- District 6 (Medicine research)  
> Berwald & Katyusha- District 7 (lumber)  
> Yao & Kim-Ly- District 8 (clothing)  
> Ivan & Belarus- District 9 (hunters/ weapon manufacturing)  
> Kiku & Mii- District 10 (livestock)  
> Peter & (unidenified because I'm out of females)- District 11 (crops and produce)  
> Romano & Sophia- District 12 (coal)

Romano was awoken by Julius early the next morning, be I should interest tribute outfit, made of thick black material that was made to combat cold, water, and sun without being too heavy. Romano was keeping a mockingjay necklace as his token, though it had been argued against for a while. Some said that it would give him an advantage if he used it as a weapon. It had eventually been approved, but Romano tucked it inside his undershirt, just in case someone tried to grab it. 

Sadiq had advised that he afford the cornucopia for the first day, at least, and to stay out of the bloodbath. Because he really had nothing else to go off of, he decided to take his advice.

He didn’t know what to expect for their arena, but knew better than to hope for a forest or tree coverage. Apparently, the odds were in his favor because they were put in the clearing, surrounded by towering trees. He could have jumped for joy. 

The countdown began, morning signed beating down from overhead.

Sophia, apparently, was opting to ignore Sadiq’s advice as she was bracing herself to run towards the cornucopia.

Romano took several deep breaths as the countdown came to a close, off the shot as soon as the buzzer sounded, the trees filling his vision of the sound battlefield permeated the air behind him.

A small girl with Bob blonde hair pulled past him, purple ribbon the only color on her outfit. She had a backpack clutched in her fist. He watched her for a moment before he saw a knife landed between her shoulder blades, the pack going flying forward, away from her already still body.

He grabbed it without stopping, slinging it over his shoulders, hoping it acted as a shield for his vital organs.

He felt the stock and put on more speed until you reach the trees, quickly scaling one and perching on a high branch. His pursuer turned and went back to the cornucopia. He could see her spill of honey brown hair and the knife still glinting in her hand. He panted as the adrenaline that had flooded his veins slowly ebbed away. 

He had had a plan, and it was all fairly logical; make a weapon, find water, get dinner and find a place to sleep. And, of course, avoid all other tributes.

It didn’t seem simple anymore. He knew he had to get farther into the woods, find a water source, and make a camp. But now, his nerves were on fire, hyperaware of every noise, every breath he took.

At any moment, another tributes could come barreling through the tree line, and he could be finished. 

He had also just assumed that there was a forest he’d be at home, that he would have an advantage.

He was wrong. This was a forest, just not the one he was used to. It wasn’t his home.

This left him numb, clinging to the tree trunk, fingers cold and had full cotton, only hearing white noise.

Until a loud ‘bang!’ shook the ground and shocked Romano so by the he tumbled out of the tree. 

He smacked his side of the ground painfully but he was able to roll to his knees and crawl to his feet, adrenaline returning to his bloodstream.

It hurt to move his hip too much, instead ending up doing an unsteady speed hobble, occasionally pausing to lean against a tree trunk.

Finally, after what felt like forever, though the sun didn’t seem to have moved its place in the sky, Romano paused. He listened carefully, grinning at the sound of running water.

He stumbled towards his salvation.


	6. Of Wounds Inflicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bow was still secure in his blood sticky fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting to the emotional things now. I'm sorry to have gone long without an update, but it doesn't seem anyones really interested much any way. I've been busy preparing for college visits and graduating. (And my birthdays next week! Someone should write me some smut as a present!) Anyway, updates should be faster now.

The stream was fresh and cool, not very large, but not exactly small either. It felt amazing as it ran through Romano’s fingers, and he decided that there was as good of a place as any to check what he had managed to get in his pack.

He pulled it off his back and dug through the pockets. It didn’t have much, but he would definitely benefit from having what it did have.

A water purifier, a canteen, a length of rope, a hunting knife, a set of odd headphones and a large, metallic sphere was all he could find hidden in its depths. It took him a moment of studying it intently before he realized it was flashbang. He put it with the headphones, knowing they went together.

They were rarely used in the games, too many deaths resulting in the chaos, more than the gamekeepers wanted to deal with. After the initial blood bath, they wanted the deaths to come at a more moderate pace, to drag the games out and give them more content.

The loud noise Romano had heard at the Cornucopia as he ran away must have been another one, probably the other one in the games. It would definitely come in handy.

He filled his canteen and reloaded his pack, tucking the hunting knife into his belt, before standing up to continue on when he heard it.

He would recognize the sound anywhere, had been the one making it since he was eight.

The sound of an arrow being fired.

It embedded itself a few feet from his left foot.

He looked up and saw the tribute from District 1, holding a sleek bow in one hand. More arrows peeked over one shoulder, held securely in a quiver.  
Romano pulled his knife out carefully as she docked another arrow. 

She clearly hadn't fired a bow often, as she was holding her arrow wrong on the string, along with the fact that her grip on the actual bow was wrong.  
She’d never fire straight, so he charged forward while he could, dodging an arrow that was too far right to do any real damage. He sunk his knife into her chest as soon as he was close enough. His heart was pounding in his ears, adrenaline sharpening his vision and numbing the pain from his hip. Bones splintered beneath his blade and the other tribute gasped and dropped the bow. Her other hand, however, kept a steady grip on the arrow, which she plunged through his shoulder, aided by him partially falling on it. She fell away from him, and a canon fired in the distance. 

He plucked the bow off the ground and yanked the quiver from under her, clutching it to him like a lifeline.

The other Careers would be coming after him, he realized. The surge of adrenaline left him as quick as it had come on, and it was all he could do to climb a tree several yards away in fear. He was as high as he could get before he realized that a hovercraft hadn't come to take the body away because he was too close. 

He felt his eyes drooping, exhausted from the rush of adrenaline, blood loss, and hunger. He barely had the mind to tie himself to the tree securely and hook his pack over a jutting branch within reach, quiver hanging behind it. His hand, the one with blood running down it from his injured shoulder, was still clutching his bow , but judging by how stiff his fingers were, he wouldn’t be releasing it anytime in the foreseeable future.

\--

The sky remained dark much longer than a typical night, or so it seemed, but Romano couldn't guarantee he hadn't just slept through a whole day. Fever had set in, and he needed food, but he knew if he tried to climb down no one would have to go through the trouble of killing him. He could barely feel his left arm, but the wound in his shoulder throbbed with every heartbeat. The arrow was still lodged in it, and he knew it needed to stay there until he could bandage it. The bow was thankfully still locked in his blood sticky fingers.

The District 1 tribute still laid dead at the trunk of a large tree several trees away from his. If any other clever tributes came through, they would know he was still close by.

He heard rustling in the branches to his left and he looked up slowly, hazy and confused.

Bright blue eyes gleamed at him through the trees and he jumped, jarring his shoulder roughly. He gasped in pain. There was more shuffling before the eyes disappeared. 

Romano didn't even have the mind to worry where they went.

Voices rang out through the trees, and he felt his breath freeze in his chest.

“Joan?” A voice rang out, the accent matching the District 1 female tribute. Joan. It was harder to think he killed her, a girl with a name and a family rather than simply another tribute in the games.

He had killed her.

“Oh, dio. I think I found her.” 

That was definitely Antonio’s voice, without a doubt.

“The last cannon was hours ago. How long do you think she’s been here?”

“Kesese, you guys really are idiots. Only the awesome me would realize there’s someone still around! Probably her killer.”

“Gil, stay quiet, oui?”

Despite their words, he heard them all spread out and begin looking.

There were equal sides of his brain warring over whether it would be a curse or a blessing for Antonio to be the one to kill him.

“There’s blood on this tree!”

Romano looked down to meet red eyes. A pale man with silver hair was standing at the base of his tree, smirking. 

“Francis, Toni, come look.” 

That was it, Romano supposed, the end. After all his planning and hoping and praying, he would die there. He wondered vaguely if Feli was watching or if he was already crying for him. Maybe Ludwig had found a way to keep him from watching at all .

“So who wants the honor of killing him? That’s Joan’s bow, so obviously…” 

“That’s Romano! Get him down.”

…What...

“Antonio, that’s crazy, he obviously-“

“He’s the one I told you about. Get. Him. Down.”

But Antonio was already scaling the tree towards him. He felt positively limp with relief.

His head lolled back and the world went black.


	7. Chapter 6: To Heal With Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew that Feliciano was praying for him, tucked away safe in District 12. He knew that he didn't deserve it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is fairly detailed discussion of a medical procedure that is... not fun. If you've watched Sparticus Vengeance, you probably know what I'm talking about already.

Romano wasn’t sure why Antonio was so determined to help him. He wasn’t going to be useful, especially not with the arrow through his shoulder.

His allies apparently felt the same, giving them both flabbergasted looks as they trudged on. Romano was honestly shocked that they hadn’t simply killed him despite what Antonio wanted. He was even more shocked that they had offered to carry his things. It made him suspicious but allowed them to take his quiver and his backpack. His bow was still in his hand and he couldn’t get his hand to let go yet, even when he tried. 

Night had set upon them fast and dark, leaving everything as simple shadows. He vaguely wondered how they knew where they were going, but didn’t have the energy to ask. His savior was supporting him with an arm around his waist, his uninjured arm thrown over broad shoulders. Antonio’s skin was cool against his own, and oddly relaxing.

Soon, the Cornucopia came into view, leading the way like a beacon.

They had apparently left a guard behind, a slim girl with bobbed blonde hair, the other tribute from District 2.

She eyed him wearily but didn’t say anything about it, instead launching into a report in an almost militant fashion. “Elizaveta left before sundown and hasn’t returned. Neither has Joan.”

The albino carrying his quiver-Gilbert?- rolled his eyes.

“Always running off on her own, ke.”

“She’s been odd. It’s worrying.” The guard said. “The Games may have driven her to-“

“Bella, we all have people to fight for here, si? She has someone to return home for as well.” Antonio said simply. He laid Romano down carefully, watching his face intently for signs of pain.

“I’m going to have to get that arrow out, okay? I’ll try and make it quick.” He spoke as though talking to a wild animal, trying not to scare him. Romano wondered briefly if he was simply a wounded animal then.

The guard, Bella, knelt next to Antonio, eyes calculating. “You’re going to have to cauterize that or it’ll get infected.”

“Can you start a small enough fire that it won’t be noticeable?”

She gave him a sharp look. “Of course I can. Give him something to bite down on, this is going to hurt like hell.” 

There had been very few cauterizations in the previous years in the games, but the few there were looked painful and terrifying and left gruesome scars. Just the memory of the other tributes faces during the event made Romano tense in fear of what was to come. 

“Hey,” Antonio whispered, thumb brushing across his cheek, rough with calluses and warm despite the cool night air. “It’ll be okay, we’ll handle this and then we’ll get you some food and water. Does that sound good, querido?” The tender tone in his voice touched something deep within Romano and warmed him from within. 

“Just make it fucking fast, asshole.”

Antonio searched through the dirt and leaves for a thick stick and wiped most of the nature grime off on his sleeve before giving it to Romano, who clenched it between his teeth, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. 

Antonio seemed to have at least some medical training, as he snapped the shaft of the arrow off with very practiced motions, and used to palm of one hand to push the broken end through, pulling with the other hand. The stick in his mouth creaked in protest as his teeth dug in, holding a pained scream in as hard as he could.

Meanwhile, Bella was heating up a knife in the fire, the steel of the blade glowing a hot red.

“Cut his shirt away so I can get to it.” She said quietly, and at least she sounded apologetic to some extent.

Soon, the shirt laid around him in tatters where he was resting on his side, hurt shoulder up to air like it had been since Antonio so carefully laid him down.

“It went all the way through, so we’ll need to do it to both sides…” 

Romano nodded, trying to look calm, though his jaw flexing around his makeshift gag gave him away.

The knife pressed flat against the small hole made by the arrow. He could smell his flesh burning, and the smell made bile rise in his throat. The pain hit in an overbearing wave and forced him to take a deep, sharp breath through his nose.

It felt like death and hell and anguish all rolled into one. By the time Bella pulled the knife away, he was a panting, sweaty mess of pain.

He heard the girl move away to reheat the knife and swallowed thickly. It hurt to even breathe now, and it felt like the knife was still embedded in his shoulder. 

“Alright, almost done, we’re almost done, shh.” Antonio assured, brushing his sweaty mess of hair away, though his stray curl resisted and remained firmly disarrayed. A cool hand braced his forearm, which was his only warning he had before the knife was pressed against his exit wound.

It seemed to hurt more since he was taken by surprise , and he was left writhing for a moment, a scream caught in his throat.

When she finally pulled the knife away, Romano dropped the stick, the corners of his mouth feeling sore as well and teeth aching from the force he had bit down with. He tried to spit the taste from his mouth desperately.

He glanced up and realized everyone was watching him, even as Francis and Bella kicked dirt over the fire to smother it. It made him bristle when they didn’t look away. They were probably all marveling at how pathetic he looked, filthy and covered in his own blood. He still had the bow in his hand, unable to even feel his fingers to release it. 

“Fucking what?!” He demanded finally, voice rough.

“Nothing, nothing… Um, are you hungry? We have food and drink, you probably need it…” Romano nodded after a moment, and sat up with Antonio’s help. Gilbert went to dig through the stacks of provisions in the Cornucopia dutifully.

Every move pulled at his wound, which felt stretched and tender already.

His heart dropped when he realized Feliciano had more likely been watching the whole ordeal, had watched him spasm in pain on the ground like an infant after skinning a knee. Knowing his soft brother, he had probably cried for him, wrapped in Ludwig’s arms, safe back in District 12.

Cried for him.

Romano didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve whatever prayers Feli was whispering desperately in the language their grandfather taught them long ago, and he knew it. All of his brother’s tears and prayers and pleas were wasted on him.

He was a murderer now.


	8. The Truth in Fight or Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sounded strong and sure yet nervous.

He slept on and off throughout the rest of the night, feeling simultaneously jittery and exhausted. Antonio had laid his sleeping bag by his side, and he found his presence soothed him some.

In the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen yet the sky had began to lighten, voices woke him.

It took him a moment to recognize Francis’ voice as he talked quietly. He had been on watch for a while, Romano had heard him being awoken by Gilbert hours and hours before, and at first he thought he was waking someone else to take their shift.

“Elizaveta, where have you been? We were worried!” Gilbert’s voice was the second he heard, a desperate whisper. He understood this sentence though, unlike whatever Francis had said.

“I got lost.” This voice was unfamiliar, and soft. She sounded nervous, but also determined, even to Romano’s cloudy mind. “I was looking for Joan, but I lost her somewhere in the forest. I’m just glad she got back safe.”

“Joan’s dead.”

“I counted five bodies…” She had a pretty voice, high and soft yet still strong. Romano wondered for a moment if she was anything like the girls back in his district; soft and fragile yet acted like they weren’t.   
He hopes not. He knew girls could be different, but most didn’t want to be.

“It’ll be easier if I explained in the morning. Are you injured?”

“I’m fine.”

Something in her voice had changed. It made Romano stiffen with suspicion. He felt Antonio move as well, but wasn’t sure if he was awake or not. He couldn’t risk checking either, if what he thought was about to happen did happen.

He waited for a moment and strained his ears to hear beyond the shuffling, his stomach tight with dread.

Sure enough there came a yell and the sound of a scuffle. 

Romano fumbled to his left and grabbed his backpack and quiver, his bow still lodged in his injured hand. He rolled unevenly to his feet and kicked Antonio in the ribs.

“Get up idiot.” He urged desperately, looking over towards where the voices had come from. The girl who had thrown knives during the bloodbath was crouched over Gilbert, holding him down as she held a knife up. There was already blood everywhere and the albino wasn’t moving. A little ways a way, Bella laid silent, on her front, the silver gleam of a knife glowing in the moonlight.

A blonde man with huge eyebrow had his boot planted firmly on Francis’ neck, obviously putting his weight down a fair bit by the slowing struggled and red face.

Romano docked an arrow as quickly as he could and aimed at the man, hoping to hit his chest. He let the arrow fly as a sharp crack was heard due to the stranger’s foot going down all the way on the other man’s neck.

The arrow hit him in the thigh, Romano’s aim being off due to his injured shoulder and numb hand. 

Antonio had reacted like Romano expected him to; like a trained warrior. He was on his feet almost instantly and grabbing his own meager possessions before dragging Romano away at a run.

He wished he could fired another arrow, at the strange girl who had already tried to kill him once, but all of his energy was focused on keeping up and not falling despite how unbalanced he felt.

He glanced back to see if anyone was giving chase, and the last thing he saw was the girl from the bloodbath, with her pretty heart shaped face and long hair held back by a flower pin, stabbing Gilbert repeatedly while her ally clutched at his leg. Two canons sounded in the distance.

They ran until Romano’s hip ached and shoulder pounded and lungs burned. And then they ran some more.

When they finally stopped, they both leaned against a tree and tried to quiet their breathing.

Romano was about to ask whether they should continue going or make camp there, but never got the chance as Antonio pulled him closer and kissed him, breathless and desperate.

It was sweet and soft and involved clutching hands. Antonio tasted like rain and fire at the same time and it was over so quickly it made his head spin.

“I thought you were dead. Roma- I can’t lose you.”

He was sure he was blushing up to his ears and down across his neck.

“Don’t call me Roma, you bastard.” He choked out finally.

Antonio ignored his protests and wrapped him in a hug.

\--

Feliciano was smarter than most people gave him credit for, and he knew as soon as Romano took his place in the games that even if he won, his brother wouldn’t be the one returning to them.

Watching the games was hard, and Ludwig even tried to get him not to, but he had to.

He had to watch as Romano took an arrow, as Antonio saved him, as they cauterized his wounds, and he cried the whole time.

It should have been him out there, fighting for his life. But like everything else, Romano guarded him like he was an invalid. Hunting for them, making deals with peacemakers, giving Feliciano more of their portions.

And Feliciano needed it. He wasn’t sure he would know how to survive without ridiculous, vulgar Romano Lovino Vargas.

It almost felt as though he was already dead.


	9. Chapter 8: I Have Buried You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tino knew he was dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry for the long wait, but uh, college starts up soon and I move into my dorm next weekend. I've been busy.   
> Trigger warning; child death, death in general. Graphic

Tino had grown up an only child, and had always been small. When he had been chosen for the Hunger Games, everyone knew he was doomed. Even he did, deep down.

No one counted on Berwald to make himself Tino’s protector, but he did. Several things happened that no one expected, like them caring for Peter, a small boy from the orchards, and trying to keep each other alive.

The games were harsh, but Tino had managed to get Peter away from the bloodbath that was the Cornucopia before anything serious could happen to them. They hid up in the trees and watched for Berwald, who had insisted he could get supplies for them. 

And he did. He returned with sleeping bags, even though he could only get two, and a backpack stuffed with all the food he could find. It was a blessing, really, that Berwald only got a few scratches and cuts.

They made a small camp deep in the forest, and at night Tino and Berwald shared a sleeping bag. They all slept huddled together, under cover of brush and dried leaves.

Like a family.

\--

“We can’t just sit around. If we want to win, we need to play smart.”

“We don’t have any weapons, Peter.” Tino chided softly. “Ber’s good at fighting, but even he wouldn’t stand a chance against   
weapons.”

“There’s a group from the Careers, they’re all staked out at the Cornucopia. We can’t take them in a fight but maybe we could outsmart them.” At the incredulous looks he received, he continued, “I watched them take the tribute from 12 back to camp. He was hurt. There were three other men besides him, and they had a girl standing watch. So five. Four if you count out the injured one. Look, I’ve got a plan to draw them out…”

\--

It was easy to find piles of dry leaves and branches to burn and set them up in piles, three separate bonfires to draw tributes in so Tino could sneak to the Cornucopia to get weapons and whatever else he could grab.  
It was a simple plan. Peter, who had grown up scaling and hiding in trees in the orchards of his district, would keep watch from the trees and send a signal, via mockingjays, if anything went wrong. Meanwhile, Berwald would go looking for a better campsite, and Tino would loot the Cornucopia. When they were all through, they would meet up halfway, a bit away from the second bonfire.

It was a simple plan, but still dangerous. One of them could easily be seen and overpowered, but they had to do it. Everything was dangerous in the Hunger Games.

They all helped light the first fire before Tino and Berwald left, trusting Peter to light the other two.

\--

Berwald had been around trees and mountains his whole life, his district being responsible for lumber, so he felt almost at home among the trees and the rocks. There weren’t any true mountains in the arena, and if there had been he would have avoided them anyways, since many tributes would be looking for caves there.

Instead though, there were occasional shelves of rocks and small gatherings of higher land, which kept sloping up and up and up.

The cave Berwald found though wasn’t near anything like that. 

Down near the river, a little ways from the bank, there was a small opening was hidden by a curtain of hanging vines. It was such a small opening that Berwald had to lay on his stomach to wriggle in, and only found it because he dropped his canteen and it rolled through the opening. Once squeezed through, he found a large cavern, and knew it was perfect.

He set their pack and sleeping bags down, hiding them as best he could in the shadows. 

He snuck back through the woods, taking note of important land marks so he could find the cave again.

\--

Something wasn’t right. There were only two plumes of smoke up in the sky instead of the three there should have been. His heart rate escalated as a million scenarios ravaged his mind.

None of them ended well.

He thundered through the forest, all thoughts of subtlety gone.

Berwald’s family was in danger, he knew it. 

\--

He heard them before he saw them, desperate whispers and whimpers.

When he finally saw them, he felt relief. Peter was caught in a net, writhing around like a fish as Tino cut at it with a knife, which meant he must have made it to the Cornucopia after all, and trying to quiet the boy.

He finally seemed to make headway against the trap and tore at the ropes with renewed vigor until they fell away.

He pulled Peter up and against him once he was free. He made small comforting noises, rocking them both where he stood.

Tino gasped, staring at something off in the distance ahead of him and Peter, across the clearing. 

“No, please-“ 

But it was too late.

Berwald lunged forward anyways, instincts welling up in him at the scared tone in (what he considered) his wife’s voice.

The spear that another tribute threw went in Peter’s chest, through to Tino’s stomach, nailing them together. They fell, still attached.

Their killer froze as Berwald came into view. He was defenseless, since his only weapon was buried deep in Peter’s small chest.

Berwald didn’t remember killing the other tribute, only heard the canon and saw the blood on his hands.

That wasn’t what mattered.

\--

Tino knew he was dying. He knew the thought should have scared him, but it didn’t.  
It was hard to breathe, and painful to speak, but he did anyway.

He could feel the warmth of Peter’s body on his own, their blood mingling to make a pool on his front that slowly rolled off in streams to puddle around them. He felt as the boy’s breathing changed to desperate, pained gasps.

He could hear Berwald getting revenge.

“Hey, Pete, hey, I know it hurts baby, I’m sorry sweetie. I’m right here, okay?”

“Mama.” Peter begged, and Tino honestly didn’t know if he was begging him or his actual mother. “Papa, please, it hurts. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, just breathe, breathe with me baby.” His voice came out raspy and weak and desperate. 

The clearing went quiet and a cannon sounded. It wasn’t long before Berwald’s face hovered in his vision. 

“Papa,” Peter whispered.

“Ah’m so sorry.” Berwald whispered back, and despite the pain of moving, Tino grabbed for his hand.

“Sing me those songs you told me about, Ber?” He ran out of breath halfway through but pressed on.

And Berwald, hand tight around his, crouched in the dirt and the blood they had shed.

Peter went still, all of the breath shuddering out of his tiny body, on top of Tino, but his body remained warm, almost like a blanket.

It was easy to let go with the notion he was following Peter into oblivion, with Berwald’s voice filling his ears like a lullaby.

**Author's Note:**

> Sophia is my idea of Mexico. If anyone has a better description/idea please tell me.


End file.
